


Should’ve could’ve would’ve

by JaybirdTheAuthor



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: I’m, i didn’t think projecting would make me this sad, im so tired, projects my feelings about that one time my dad almost died, so fucking hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27604751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaybirdTheAuthor/pseuds/JaybirdTheAuthor
Summary: Fundy Drabble (takes place after Wilbur dies)
Relationships: Mentioned fundywastaken, mentioned floris | Fundy/Clay | Dream
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Should’ve could’ve would’ve

Everyone has gone their way by now, he notes standing in front of the ruins of his home—the place with father took years to build into what it was before he blew it up. He knows it’s stupid to feel like falling to his knees, his fingers quietly pressing the ground as he bites his lip. It’s all gone, he doesn’t know if he wants to build it back like the others. He was there for so much, for how the grounds grew independent and strong, he was Wilbur’s son for all that went on and he was Wilbur’s helper for everything. His suit of crayon colours, he knows where he has it hidden now that he’s wearing just his jacket instead. His mind has hesitance, his eyes show hesitance in a way he never wanted to express it. His father is gone, his mother died long ago and his father disappeared in times long past in ways he can’t explain—the man he looked up to didn’t die today, didn’t die with the body who used to host him. His father died years ago, his father lost his love for him for the war in a way that became irreversible. Wilbur was never moral but the moment his child and two child soldiers became his army marked a decline he wishes he could’ve seen coming now.

He came to the world with his mothers name at first, Fundy came later, his eyes were Wilbur’s brown. And now he’s feeling his heart, tears streaming down his face, because his father is gone. His father who would pet his head and tell him he was proud of him—the dad who hugged him when he said he was a boy instead of his daughter, the man who called him ‘son’ when they stood in the hallway of their heart. That man, any possible way he could come back, is gone now.

He sees Techno, far away in a way that almost represents how far he feels from anything connected to his father, his legs dragging him towards the place he knew for a fact to be Wilbur’s death place, asking for some clarity in his mind as a laughing Dream flashes in the corner of his eye—some fucking fiancé, his fiancé’s father is dead and instead he’s talking with George without even looking over. He doesn’t have time to be hurt that George is favoured against him, he doesn’t have time to scream at Dream that it’s his fault Fundy is a fucking orphan now.

He doesn’t know what to say anymore, his body dragged to the room with frantic scribbles all around—writing of Wilbur’s, his paw presses up against one with a shaky breath with tears streaming down his face with his shoulders going up and down with heavy and quick breaths as he continues to fall to hysterics. His grandfather doesn’t accept him, why would he? Techno is the reason he is here, on some level he must be, techno is an anarchist and probably made this happen. Tommy is upset, too upset to talk to him. All the family he has left is abandoning him too, he wonders what he can do anymore if he’s left all alone. He wishes he had just been with Schlatt, maybe he’d have Dream care then. He wishes he noticed Wilbur going insane and knew what to do. He wishes Dream didn’t clearly cheat on him or at least not have interest in him at all, he wishes his fiancé was here comforting him or didn’t give the TNT at all.

His fingers drag to a guitar, tears making it too hard to say a word or to let even a breath pass as he starts running his finger down it, taking it in his lap and playing uselessly.

I heard there was a special place, where men could go and emancipate the tyranny and the bloodlust of their rulers. Well this place is real you needn’t fret, with Wilbur Tommy Tubbo fuck Eret. It’s a very big and not blown up L’manberg.

“My L’manberg, my L’manberg, my L’maaaaaanberg.”

His head turns, Niki standing there with this small sad smile that he wishes he could return. He wishes he could smile, even fake, for Niki. But he can’t, everything is aching and hurting and when Niki sits next to him and goes to comfort him he fucking growls and pulls the guitar closer with a whine—he’s too distraught to use words by now, lip trembling. He breathes in and out, Niki smiling.

“Wilbur, Wilbur was a good man,” Niki expresses, shakily, “Wilbur had a lot of great ideas and did great things, don’t let how he went taint him for you. Your father, he, your father adored you. Your father was so good for so long.”

“I know,” Fundy whispers, looking over to Niki with an attempt at smiling that fails, “Wilbur raised me. I’m just—there’s so much we could’ve done! We should’ve done!”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Niki expresses, taking out a flower and running her thumb over it, “Wilbur did it to himself, if anything could’ve been done we would’ve done it. There’s so much we should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. But he’s away and—and that means that we can’t do it but take this as a lesson moving forward in our life. Take Wilbur as a lesson. Take what happened to your father and make sure it never happens like this again.”

“I don’t know if I truly want to follow Tubbo,” Fundy expresses, slowly looking to Niki with guilt, “Or I’m doing it because it feels like sane Wilbur would’ve seen it as the best choice. I don’t know if Wilbur would want me to just lose it and leave but some part of me needs to be alone. Some part of me wants to join Techno and Phil, they’re family and they knew dad. Maybe they’d accept me.”

“I have a secret base a bit from here,” Niki tells him, honestly, after a moment of silence with her flower, “Wilbur’s diamonds are there, if you want a reminder. We can stay there just a moment, we can come back later. Or maybe we can be there for longer than that. So you can figure it out.”

“The diamonds he gave you?” Fundy asks, perking up, “Everything he gave me he blew up or destroyed already, I have the suit but pretty much everything else is gone.”

“You can have one,” Niki responds, handing him the flower as well with a slight smile, “Wilbur helped me plant the original ones. They’re long parts of potions or dead but I thought it would work. It’s the son of the original bush.”

He can’t help the sob, hand grabbing the guitar with the flower in his other hand. The walls show a long shadow, his ears perking up in a way that lets him listen better. But no words come from this person, just the crunching of the boots, until he’s face to face with Techno and his world feels like it’s crumbling again. He wants to be mad at him, he does, he wants to be so mad at Techno and scream and rip the crown from his head but instead nothing is heard, nothing but a small whimper.

“You’re his son?”

The question is so simple, monotonous and clear. He wonders if it means something, anything, nodding to confirm that he indeed is Wilbur’s son as Techno pulls out his sword. Niki panics, he doesn’t, standing his ground with eyes on the other man before his uncle takes a deep breath.

“I don’t know how to—I’m really bad at emotions. I’m socially awkward and anxious, I’m not good at this. But. You lost your father today, I lost my brother, dad lost his son. And dad is not going to accept you for a while. It’s surprising actually, I thought he would convince me to accept you and I’d go through a whole arc. But even I can tell you’re hurt. And I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for my morals, I’m not sorry for being right, I’m not sorry for the way Wilbur decided to follow me, I’m not sorry he’s dead. I don’t have a reason to apologise, I did nothing wrong, so if you seek that of me that’s more than I can give. And I’m talking, a lot, that’s not something I do a lot. I’m not sorry your dad made this choice.”

“I got it,” Fundy expresses, so close to crying he can’t even keep going so he nods for Tevhno to continue instead.

“But. If you want to hear about your dad, I’m his older brother. If you want stories of him, of everything he did after and before you were born, of before he followed the anarchist path I walked from birth. If you need that to cope, I’m here. I’m not going to spare you, I’m not scared to hurt you if you cross me, but if you have a burial for my brother or a memorial or what you may call it. When you let my brother go, I would like to say a few words. I’m shit at them, he was a guy with a tongue of silver and sharp as a dagger and I held the literal silver dagger in my hand—but if you hold anything for him, I want to go. And if you want to hear about him, you know where my secret base is.”

They stand in silence for a moment before Techno coughs and stumbles again, Fundy says a ‘thank you’ with a   
quietness in his tone with the slight shake that reveals he’s close to crying. Techno doesn’t hesitate leaving, techno doesn’t try to comfort him for even a second because he knows his role and knows where to go. Techno knows it isn’t his job to comfort Fundy, knows he can’t.

At least he did better than Dream. He doesn’t even care about fundy much, he barely gives two fucks about him, but he’s his brother's son. Dream’s not going after his fiancé, Techno thinks he should’ve said no to Fundy’s proposal if he did not want to care for him. If he didn’t want to care for Fundy, didn’t want to check up on the boy or didn’t want to make sure his fiancé would at least be safe. He doesn’t even bother looking up from his conversation with Sapnap, he doesn’t bother for a second.

Fundy grips the horse with care, trying to not hurt it while still holding on enough to sort of vent his emotions, following Niki obediently with Wilbur’s guitar and his head all messy from everything, from Jschlatt attacking him and his now dead father being the only person to defend him, telling him he’s not a man and beating him—Fighting his fiancé, his dad dying—everything is so mixed up and fucked and he feels like he has to throw up from grief and just confusion. 

He finally is important to the administration, he’s finally important, he’s finally got a job. Yet he’s never wanted to run, just run until nobody can see him and nobody has even heard of him. He wants his mother, fuck he wants his father, he wants his mother and her embrace he doesn’t even remember anymore, her hands he doesn’t remember the texture of. He wants to be held by his family, Dream or dad or mum, but none of them can. None of them care enough, two of them are dead and one is making him regret giving him his heart. He doesn’t even know what to say anymore, he’s regretting everything he did from a small child and even as Niki shows him around the base and tells stories he doesn’t know how to focus enough to talk to her, he’s clouded and confused thinking over things over and over again.

What the fuck is he even supposed to do now?


End file.
